


Tumblr Ficlet Drop

by frankiesin



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Halsey (Musician), My Chemical Romance, PVRIS (Band), Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Amusement Parks, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon Dumping Ground, Killjoys AU, Multi, Single Parents, Skiing, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:22:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 14,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8264228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiesin/pseuds/frankiesin
Summary: A collection of the prompts/drabbles/ficlets I've done on tumblr, and in class. Will be updated every Tuesday until I run out of ficlets and then it'll be updated whenever I write a new one.(pairings list will be updated occasionally)





	1. Things You Said With too Many Miles Between Us (Brendon/Spencer)

“You can’t just hide here forever,” Ryan said. Spencer had shown up two months after the initial split with a backpack on one shoulder and no explanation. Ryan had some ideas as to what had happened, but he knew he wouldn’t get anything from Spencer directly until Spencer was ready to share. 

 

“I can,” he said. He had his phone in his hands, and was twirling it around in his hands. It was dead, and had been dead for most of Spencer’s time here. Ryan stared at it. “At least come inside and stop being all angsty and shit.”

 

“Right,” Spencer said, getting up and putting his phone away. “That’s your job.”

 

“Obviously,” Ryan said. 

 

He waited until Spencer was already asleep before sneaking into his room and stealing his phone and charger. Ryan hid in the bathroom, lights out and waiting on Spencer’s phone to wake back up. It took a while, but when it did there were over twenty missed messages. All but three of them were from Brendon. 

 

Ryan knew he shouldn’t. He knew that Spencer was in love with Brendon, and had picked him over Ryan because he thought that somehow it would get Brendon to love him back. 

 

Fuck it, Ryan thought, and pressed the first message.

 

“Hey, Spence, I’m sorry about what happened–”

 

“Spencer, it’s Brendon. I shouldn’t have said that shit, I was just… I was scared, okay? You’re all I have–”

 

“I don’t hate you, I don’t know why–”

 

“Please call me back, please.”

 

“Fuck, Spence, I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t do this alone, I need–”

 

“At least let me know you’re not dead? Please?”

 

“I know it’s too late for this, but me too, Spencer. I love–”

 

Ryan unplugged Spencer’s phone and turned it off again. He wasn’t the one getting his heart broken over long distance, but he still felt a heavy weight in his chest. 

 

He deleted all the messages from Brendon.

 


	2. Things You Always Meant to Say But Never Got the Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer/Dallon AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since a lot of these are really short, I'm changing my updates from just Tuesdays to on both Tuesday and Friday. So yeah.

Spencer met him on accident, while Panic! was touring and his band was fronting for someone else. There was no saucy hook up like everyone else assumed, just a handful of dates where they would leave their bands behind and just go out together. 

 

Somewhere along the line, Spencer fell in love with Dallon, but there was no way to tell a guy that he’d only known for maybe three weeks and who was six years older that he wanted to keep going on dates with him. When the tour ended, so had Spencer and Dallon, and Spencer returned to Las Vegas without saying anything. 

 

By that time, the band was getting big, there was the whole second album thing, and then the split. That was the worst, because Spencer lost his best friend and it turned out that making an album with just Brendon was a lot harder than expected. It would be even harder when they started touring, because they were short a bassist and a guitarist, and Brendon could only do so much at once. 

 

“So, I’ve been asking around, and I think I found some guys who’d be willing to tour with us,” Brendon said one day. “Do you want me to give you the list, or do you just want to sit in on the auditions?”

 

“I’ll just sit in,” Spencer said. “I trust you to not bring in anyone too horrible.”

 

Brendon grinned. “Cool, the first guy’s coming in tomorrow.”

 

The first few guys were alright, but not exactly what Brendon and Spencer were looking for. The fourth guy, however, was none other than Spencer’s Dallon from five years ago. He only knew three Panic! songs, and Brendon was ready to scratch him off the list of possibilities, but Spencer pulled him to the side and said, “I know him, from, like 2006. He’s a good bassist, and I know at least one of us will get along with him.”

 

“He doesn’t know any of our songs,” Brendon argued. 

 

“He can learn.”

 

Brendon let out a sigh. “Fine, but if he doesn’t learn the setlist in time, you’re in charge of finding a replacement.”

 

“Thanks, Brendon,” Spencer said. They headed back in, and told Dallon that they’d be happy to have him. Dallon signed the needed paperwork to make it official, and Brendon left to go work on something else. Once he was gone, Spencer moved over closer to Dallon. Dallon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You didn’t choose me just because of what we were, right?”

 

“No, we chose you because you’re a great musician,” Spencer said. He reached out and linked his fingers with Dallon’s. “But, hey, if you want to sneak off with me while we’re on tour, I’m not going to complain.”

 

“Definitely,” Dallon said. “We can do that whenever you want.”

 

Spencer grinned. Maybe this time, he’d get his chance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!


	3. Things You Said When You Thought I was Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lynn Gunn/Halsey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next ficlet, featuring a ship that surprisingly doesn't have any fics. 
> 
> Come on, guys, Halsey and Lynn are both WLW what are you doing? Let the little gays be together.

Pants off, bras off, wearing each other’s shirts and pressed together in Ashley’s bunk. Lynn’s eyes were closed, and she was half asleep, her back warm against Ashley. They were both touring with another band, and this whole dating/hooking up thing had been going on for most of the tour.

 

They almost always ended up here, on Ashley’s bus. There were less people here, and even though Lynn loved Alex and Brian like they were her brothers, she figured they didn’t want to hear her and Ashley every night. 

 

Ashley hummed the chorus of one of her songs against Lynn’s back, the unspoken words vibrating against Lynn’s spine.

 

“I could make so many songs about you,” Ashley whispered the words against Lynn’s back. “You’re like the secret I really don’t want to keep.”

 

Lynn smiled into her corner of the pillow.

 

“It sucks, you know, how everyone sees me with a guy one time and assumes I’m fucking him, but you and I are always together and the media’s all, ‘oh look at these girls bonding and shit’,” Ashley sighed, her nose brushing Lynn’s shoulder blade. She let go of Lynn’s waist to brush her hair away. “I just want to kiss you in public, for once, and not have everyone think I’m doing it for the show.”

 

You can, Lynn thought, you can kiss me whenever you want.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed! Also, feel free to send me a fic request on tumblr (I'm spookyglitterspencer)


	4. Things You Said With No Space Between Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer/Brendon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to leave my charger on campus today, and I have fifteen minutes of battery left before my laptop dies. Shoutout to me for having my shit together.

Brendon leaned his head back on Spencer’s shoulder. “How long do you think it takes for two people to breathe in all the oxygen in a tiny room?”

 

“I have no idea,” Spencer said. 

 

“Did you try calling anyone?” Brendon asked. It was dark, and stuffy, and it was starting to smell like sweat in here. It had been Brendon’s idea to hide from the rest of the band as a joke, but neither of them had expected to get locked into… whatever this was. Rooms shouldn’t be this small. 

 

“There’s no service here,” Spencer said. “I’m pretty sure they all gave up.”

 

“They can’t leave without us, right?” Brendon asked. “I mean, I’m the lead singer, and you’re the drummer. We’re important.”

 

Spencer turned his head so that his cheek was pressed against Brendon’s. “I’m pretty sure we can be replaced. Not, like, instantly, but if we’re never found and we end up dying here.”

 

“Shit,” Brendon said, chewing on his lip. “If we’re going to die here, can we start confessing shit?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“I thought you and Ryan were banging when I first joined the band.” 

 

Spencer made a fake gagging noise above Brendon’s head. “Gross, that’s like kissing your brother.”

 

“It’s a confession,” Brendon said, trying to shrug his shoulders and ending up hitting Spencer in the chest. “What’s yours?”

 

“I had a thing for you wearing glasses,” Spencer said. “I still do, kind of. Sorry.”

 

“Wait, is it just the glasses or is it me?” Brendon asked. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness, but he was sure that Spencer was rolling his eyes at him. Brendon poked Spencer with his shoulder again. “Come on, we’re confessing shit. You can’t clam up now.”

 

“It was you, okay?” Spencer said. “I had a crush on you.”

 

Brendon stared at what he presumed was the ceiling for a moment. “So, assuming we get out of here and don’t die, we should totally start making out. Like, a lot. As a near-death bonding experience.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you emjoyed, and feel free to visit me on tumblr!


	5. Things You Said At The Kitchen Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer/Dallon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I really, really love Spallon it is so underrated. Also I want to do a full-length Spallon kid fic at some point in my life because they are both such dads.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy!

“Thanks for doing this,” Dallon said as he set a cup of black coffee in front of Spencer. He had his own glass of Dr. Pepper and sat down beside Spencer. Spencer ripped open a packet of sugar and said, “it’s not a big deal. I had two kid sisters, and then I was basically the parent friend for the band while we figured our lives out.”

 

Dallon stretched his legs out under the table, pressing his socked foot to Spencer’s ankle. “Yeah, but just because you and I were in the same band once doesn’t mean you have to help me figure out the whole single dad thing.”

 

“Maybe I want to,” Spencer said, more to his coffee than to Dallon. Dallon rubbed his foot against Spencer’s leg. Spencer looked up from his coffee. “You’re a good dad, even without me here to keep them from ganging up on you.”

 

“Aw, you’re making me blush,” Dallon said. 

 

“I mean it.”

 

“Thanks,” Dallon said. “You’re a good dad, too, and I think my kids really like you. I really like you.”

 

Spencer rotated his cup around in his hands. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed around longer than you needed to,” Dallon said. “And I also wouldn’t mind going out with you, sometime.”

 

“Like, a date?”

 

“If that’s what you’re calling it these days, then yes,” Dallon said, offering Spencer a shy smile. Spencer leaned over and kissed Dallon, a small peck on the lips. “Yeah, sure, just… let’s go somewhere not so kid friendly. At least for the first date.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed, and feel free to visit me on my tumblr (@spookyglitterspencer)! My fic requests are probably going to be open until, like, Halloween.


	6. Things You Said When We Were On Top Of The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lynn Gunn/Halsey

“Oh my God!” Lynn was screaming, her grin huge as she steered the bumper car to slam into Josh again. Ashley laughed along with her girlfriend, holding onto her waist so she didn’t topple out of the car when they got hit from behind. 

 

They’d all gathered in LA: Halsey, PVRIS, and Josh Dun (Tyler was off doing something with his wife) and were having the time of their lives at Disneyland. 

 

Lynn put on her serious face and slammed into Josh again, successfully getting him turned around so that she and Ashley could pass him. As they did, Ashley threw a double peace sign over her shoulder. She turned around and wrapped an arm around Lynn before the cars slowed down to a stop. 

 

The two hopped out and ran over to Josh, Alex, and Brian, who were all huddled by the exit. Ashley jumped in Josh’s face. “Hah, we totally kicked your ass!”

 

“You weren’t even driving,” Josh said, taking his baseball cap back from her. Lynn came up and placed her head on Ashley’s shoulder. “She didn’t need to. You just suck at bumper cars.”

 

“You were cheating, somehow,” Brian said, narrowing his eyes and booping Lynn’s nose. “We’ll get you back at the arcade games.”

 

“Sure you will,” Lynn said as they headed out. She grabbed Ashley’s hand, and squeezed gently. They got a few paces ahead of the boys before Lynn, still smiling and riding on the high of the bumper cars, bumped Ashley’s shoulder and said, “hey, you wanna get gay married?”

 

“Really?” Ashley asked. Lynn nodded. “Yeah, sure, why not? They can’t gal pal us if we’re wearing rings.”

 

“Hell yeah,” Ashley said, and pulled her in for a kiss that was more smiles than anything else.

 


	7. Boys and their Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petekey HS AU with Gerard and his love for coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post this yesterday, whoops.

Cool things about going to a private high school: there was an actual Starbucks inside of the cafeteria, and it wasn’t any more expensive than the Starbucks’ outside of the school.

 

Not so cool things about going to a private high school: everyone went to the Starbucks between classes and so Gerard had to spend way too much time in line for coffee with Mikey, listening to Mikey go on about his crush on one of the soccer players. 

 

Gerard didn’t even know the school had a soccer team until Mikey started talking about this Pete Wentz guy. Gerard didn’t even know that there was a Pete Wentz guy, or that he was of any importance, until Mikey got a crush on him and then never shut up about how attractive he was. 

 

Gerard wished he and Mikey had more than three friends. Not because Gerard had dreams of becoming popular and getting the recognition he deserved as a brilliant artist and creator, but because if he and Mikey had more friends then maybe Mikey would go to them about his crushes and not Gerard. It wasn’t like Gerard had actual experience with dating. He rarely left his bedroom unless he was going to school. Hell, their friend group’s DND sessions were held in Gerard’s room so that he wouldn’t have to leave it. 

 

Gerard let out a sigh as Mikey started another paragraph in his never ending essay titled Why Pete Wentz Is The Literal Best And How He’s Completely Out Of Mikey’s League. It was a long essay. Mikey’d been working on it for almost two weeks, and Gerard was pretty sure he was still on the first draft. 

 

Mikey started shaking Gerard, and Gerard nearly dropped his folder of art supplies. He really needed a portfolio to hold them in, but that was expensive and Gerard didn’t have any real money. Gerard frowned. “What, Mikey?”

 

“He’s here,” Mikey said. “Gerard, Pete Wentz is just… standing in the cafeteria. Oh my God.”

 

“Stop freaking out, he’s literally just a guy with cool hair.”

 

“Yeah, which means I have every right to freak out,” Mikey said. There was literally no logic behind that statement. Gerard didn’t bother pointing that out, because it wasn’t like Mikey would pay attention. Mikey was too busy sending Pete Wentz heart-eyes from across the cafeteria. 

 

“You should go talk to him, since you’re not going to get coffee anyway,” Gerard said, rolling his eyes. It was true: Mikey rarely bought anything from Starbucks, but he was always right there, beside Gerard, going on about how much he wanted to hold Pete’s hand and make out obsessively with Pete against their lockers like they were one of those straight couples. 

 

Mikey stared at Gerard. “I can’t do that.”

 

“I thought you wanted to be his boyfriend,” Gerard said. “You can’t be his boyfriend if you never talk to him.”

 

“Yeah, but I also can’t just walk up in the middle of school and be like, ‘hey Pete I’ve got a big gay crush on you, hope you’re also not straight.’ That’s not how this works,” Mikey said, crossing his arms over his chest. He let out a sigh of defeat. “I’ll be lucky to be his friend, ever.”

 

“You could at least try,” Gerard said. 

 

Mikey looked over to where Pete and his friends were hanging out, looking way cooler than they were supposed to while wearing the school uniform. Gerard rolled his eyes and then pushed Mikey out of the line. Mikey turned around and looked at Gerard, terrified. “Gerard, what the fuck?”

 

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Gerard said, and immediately hated himself for saying that. “I believe in you.”

 

“I don’t,” Mikey said, but he tightened his grip on his backpack straps and walked over towards Pete and his friends anyway. Gerard turned back to the line. He was next, and he still hadn’t figured out what he wanted. He forgot about Mikey for a moment, as he quickly read over the menu that he had long ago memorised, and eventually decided on a simple iced mocha. Venti, to treat himself for putting up with all of Mikey’s rambling. 

 

When he finally finished his order and retreated to the pick-up area, Mikey was over with Pete and his friends, and actually talking to Pete. The two were separated from Pete’s group of friends, and Pete was leaning into Mikey’s space and watching him like he was sizing him up. Gerard rolled his eyes at the scene, but he was secretly proud of Mikey for getting past his shyness and talking to Pete. 

 

Gerard didn’t know much about Pete, other than the things he’d heard from Mikey. He hoped that Pete wouldn’t turn out to be a dick. 

 

The barista called out Gerard’s name, and he retrieved his coffee from the counter. He grabbed a straw and bit off the end, then pulled off the rest of the paper and tossed it in the trash can by the counter. As he turned around and stabbed his straw into his drink, Gerard looked up to see Pete leaning in and kissing Mikey. It wasn’t even a cute kiss, it was full-on making out, just like the straight couples would do. 

 

Gerard shrugged. It looked like both of the brothers had gotten what they were hoping for. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave a comment/kudos!


	8. I (Bat) Heart You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete/Mikey soulmates AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something someone asked for on tumblr (and my requests are still open, even though I'm doing nanowrimo)

Everyone’s born with a mark, usually on the inside of the wrist on their dominant hand. Mikey’s no different, but the weird bat thing on his wrist baffles him for years. Of course, then Pete Wentz starts throwing his little bat symbol around everywhere, and Mikey realises that, well, shit. Pete’s gotta be his soulmate.

 

Who else would want to put a giant heart in a bat and call it art? 

 

Mikey avoids Pete for most of Warped ‘04. He’s got his brother to worry about, and also Pete’s kind of intimidating. Well, not so much intimidating. He’s just a lot to deal with, at any given moment. Mikey makes sure to wear a wristband over his mark, just in case Pete gets too close and starts asking questions.

 

Gerard’s sober and the band’s not threatening to unravel in 2005, so Mikey doesn’t have a good excuse when Pete asks if he wants to hang out. Mikey wears the wristband anyway, because now the little bat heart is everywhere, even on kids’ sweatshirts, and Mikey’s afraid Pete’ll assume he’s just a fan. Mikey’s not a fan, he’s on the same level as Pete. 

 

They’re riding around in a train at one of the water parks Pete always drags Mikey to, and Mikey’s got a tangerine popsicle. Pete’s is grape, which is nasty. Pete’s slurping on his, and Mikey would roll his eyes, but it’s kind of endearing. 

 

Pete bumps his knee against Mikey. “Hey, so this is random, but, like, you ever wonder who your soulmate is? If they’re someone you already know, or if they’re a random person you run into while on your way back to the bus, and if you don’t see their wrist, you’ll never know?”

 

“I’m pretty sure my soulmate isn’t a random person,” Mikey says, leaning out of the train so that his popsicle didn’t drip on his shoes. Pete stares at him. “Do you know who they are? Do they know who you are?”

 

“What’s your mark?” Mikey asks, because there’s always the chance he got it wrong and his weird bat thing and Pete’s batheart brand are just coincidences. Pete turns his right wrist over, almost smacking Mikey with the popsicle, and right there, over the veins, is the batheart Mikey’s seen his whole life. Mikey nods. “Cool. So that’s where you go the idea from?”

 

“Give me some credit, asshole,” Pete says, but he’s ducking his head like he’s actually embarrassed. Mikey bumps Pete’s knee. “Hey, no, I didn’t say it was bad. It’s pretty cool, actually. It means your soulmate, whoever they are, has a sure sign of who they’re matched with.”

 

“Then why haven’t they come forward yet?” Pete asks, frowning. 

 

“Maybe they’re scared?” Mikey says. “You are kind of famous, you know. Not everyone wants to be in the spotlight.”

 

“Yeah, but who wouldn’t want to date me?”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Mikey says, deadpanning. Pete sticks his tongue out at Mikey. “Shut up, I’m irresistable.”

 

“Sure you are.”

 

“I am,” Pete says, completely certain. A few moments pass, and they continue to work on their popsicles, before Pete bumps Mikey’s knee again. “Hey, I showed you mine. You should show me yours. You do have one, right? I know some people don’t, but, like… it’s super rare.”

 

“Pete.”

 

“No, I’m not judging you if you don’t have one,” Pete continues, and Mikey thinks that sometimes Pete just likes the sound of his own voice. “That whole spiel about your soulmate being the only one you can ever love is bullshit anyway. Love’s more than a mark on your wrist. It’s effort, and it’s a connection that takes time–”

 

“Pete!” Mikey says, louder this time, and shoves his arm in Pete’s face, pulling back the wristband so that his own mark is on display. There’s a moment where Pete just stares at Mikey’s arm, and then his eyes widen to a comical size and he looks from the batheart to Mikey. 

 

Pete blinks. “Wait, you…?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything, last summer?”

 

“I had other shit going on,” Mikey says, but that’s just an excuse. “And, I didn’t know you, like, at all. Now I do. And I know that we’re not… we’re not in love or whatever, but we could be. Maybe. I’d like to give it a try.”

 

“Yes,” Pete says, wrapping his fingers around Mikey’s wrist. He leans in and kisses Mikey, and Mikey kisses back, and for that moment, everything feels perfect. And maybe that’s all they need. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!


	9. Another Knife In My Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete/Mikey hospital AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is vaguely based off something that happened to my mom while she was in nursing school and working the front desk of an ER.

Mikey liked working the late night shift at the hospital. It was when all the interesting people came in, with interesting injuries. There were, of course, people who came in screaming and bleeding everywhere. Those were always the worst, because the waiting room was super quiet at night, in between emergencies. 

 

The waiting room was surprisingly full for three in the morning, but it was right after a big game and a lot of people had been out in the streets, doing dumb things that warranted medical assistance. No one needed anything immediately, thankfully, but there were a lot of drunk, sleepy, injured people hanging around and mumbling amongst themselves. 

 

The automatic doors opened, and a man about Mikey’s age walked in. He was dressed like he’d just gotten off a punk photoshoot, complete with the patched and pinned leather jacket covering whatever shirt he had on underneath. He walked straight up to Mikey, who was standing behind the desk and wiggling the pens around. 

 

The guy stared Mikey down. “Hey, I’m Pete, I need to see a doctor now.”

 

“I understand, but we’ve got a waitlist,” Mikey said, because he couldn’t see any kind of injury on Pete and so long as the guy looked alive, Mikey wouldn’t triage him to the top. He pulled out the clipboard that everyone who didn’t need medical attention signed in on, and handed it over the little counter. “If you can just sign in here, we’ll get you checked out as soon as possible.”

 

“No, dude, I gotta see someone right now,” Pete insisted, pushing the clipboard away with one arm. Mikey frowned. “Pete. Look, I understand that you want to be seen, but we have a long line of people here, and only so many doctors–”

 

“Look, nurse…” Pete’s eyes flicked down to Mikey’s nametag, “Mikey, you seem pretty cute, and if this were any other situation I would really enjoy hanging around and chatting with you, but I’m serious. I need a doctor.”

 

Pete pulled back his jacket, and there, nestled neatly in the upper right-hand corner of his chesty-shoulder area, was the blade of a switchblade knife. There was some partially dried blood pooled around the entry wound, but the knife was doing a good job of keeping Pete from bleeding out everywhere. Pete cocked his eyebrow at Mikey, and Mikey nodded. “Yep, you definitely need a doctor. One moment.”

 

“Thanks,” Pete said. Mikey turned away and paged for a doctor, saying it was an emergency, albeit not life threatening. So long as Pete didn’t touch the knife, or move his right arm, he’d be fine for the minute or so it took for someone to get out to the waiting room and take Pete away to get looked at. 

 

Pete leaned in, using his left arm to balance across the counter. “So, this isn’t the best way to meet someone, but I meant what I said earlier, about wanting to just hang around.”

 

“Do you often flirt with people while waiting for treatment?” Mikey asked, dead-pan. He had to admire Pete’s daring, though, because an emergency waiting room wasn’t where most people tried to hit on others. 

 

Pete grinned. “Depends. Is it working?”

 

“I think you’ve suffered a lot of blood loss already,” Mikey said. “But if you want to try again later, when you’re not dying and it’s not three in the morning, there’s a Starbucks about three blocks from here.”

 

“When are you off?” Pete asked.

 

“Thursday,” Mikey said. “Is ten good for you or do you have a normal person schedule?”

 

“Dude, I’m in a punk band,” Pete said, and then gave a peace sign to the nurse that had just come through the hospital door with a look of determination on her face. “I don’t have a schedule. Ten’s fine.”

 

“Nice,” Mikey said, smiling. “I’ll see you there.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	10. Petekey in the Zones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete/Mikey Killjoy AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have three prompts in my inbox and I haven't done them because I'm the worst.

Living out in the zones could get lonely at times. There were a lot of Killjoys and neutrals who wanted nothing to do with Battery City, but they were spread out all across the desert. It was hard to find new company, and even harder to find enjoyable company.

 

Honestly, Mikey was just lucky that Pete and the Young Bloods happened to exist nearby. The Young Bloods had found a half blown out, abandoned motel about twenty miles from the Fab Four’s diner, and they’d been using the motel as a safe haven for people fresh from the city. 

Pete, obviously, was Mikey’s favourite. Poison kind of hated Pete, but it was out of distrust and not any real anger. 

 

Mikey and Pete, early on in their relationship, had discovered a nice, secluded section of mountain cliffs that was equidistant from where they lived. They didn’t go there every night, because Pete was essentially a dad to a bunch of teenage runaways, and Mikey was generally on the run. They needed all the sleep they could get. 

 

Tonight, though, Mikey took one of the motorbikes and rode up to the mountains, knowing Pete would be there waiting for him. He was. He was seated on top of one of the rocks that looked down over the desert. Pete’s short little legs dangled over the edge, his feet swaying gently as he shifted his grip on his raygun. 

 

Pete looked up as Mikey came up and joined him. “Hey, Kobra. You look tired.”

 

“Yeah, we’ve been having some trouble sleeping recently,” Mikey said, leaning against Pete’s shoulder. They’d agreed, early on, that Pete would be the pillow since Mikey was made up only of sharp, pointy bones and had no good surface for leaning on. “There’ve been a lot of dracs recently, I’m worried they’ve figured out where we’re hiding. If they have, we’ll need to either get rid of them or move out, but I don’t know where the hell we’d go.”

 

“If you need some backup, we got a pair of new kids about a week ago,” Pete offered. “They’re still a little wide-eyed and new, but they’re good shots. They’re gonna make it out here, Mikes, I can feel it.”

 

“Then maybe we shouldn’t send them out to fight a horde of dracs,” Mikey said. He kissed Pete, and Pete kissed back, and the ever-present danger was forgotten for a moment. When Mikey pulled back, his lips were slick with spit from Pete’s mouth. “If you and your Young Bloods want to come over and helps us out, though, that’d be appreciated.”

 

“You just miss seeing my face around the diner,” Pete said, smirking. 

 

Mikey rolled his eyes, and let Pete kiss him again. “Yeah, sure. But, even if Poison’ll never admit it, it would be nice to have a few more people on our side.“

 

“Then just give me the time and we’ll be there,” Pete said. “Just like always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!


	11. Girl Gangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt (from class): character's car breaks down and the only place in sight is a biker bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of want to mess around with this AU a bit more, because it was fun to write. Also, I wrote it so that it takes place in the early 90s, so that's why Ryan doesn't just call Spencer on a cellphone.

It was late, and Ryan was alone with only Spencer’s drum kit and a pile of clothes. He had absolutely no gas left in his car, and the nearest place with any lights on had about twenty motorcycles out front. Ryan could already hear the yelling from inside, and he was on the other side of the parking lot.

 

Ryan was twenty-two, wearing a stupid vest, and he was about to die with his best friend’s drums in the back of his car. 

 

He entered the bar anyway, hoping no one would take notice of him or his blatantly not leather jacket attire. Ryan wasn’t that lucky. All the bikers were girls, but the kind of girls who grinned with fangs and ate men for a mid-morning snack. They probably had an extra pair of fangs between their legs, too.

 

Ryan did what any tiny gay man would do when confronted with a room of terrifying women: he waved and asked if there was a phone he could use. 

 

The one with a half shaved afro and more piercings than she had fingers pointed him to the back of the bar. She followed Ryan back there, swinging around a butterfly knife like she thought she could make Ryan more terrified than he already was. 

 

Ryan called up Spencer, so that Spencer would at least know where his drums and Ryan’s body could be found. Spencer picked up on the third ring: “Spencer and Ryan’s house, what’s up?”

 

“Hey, Spence, it’s me,” Ryan said, looking over his shoulder at the woman who was still watching him. “I’m in a biker bar and I’ve got no gas. I’ve got your drums. Please come pick me up.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!


	12. Mikey's Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The in-class prompt was to take something we'd already written and rewrite it through someone else's POV
> 
> I took a scene from "Intermittent Work Breaks" and did it through Mikey's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post last week, whoops.

Mikey hated working the cash register, and Brendon knew it, so he always tried to have someone there instead of Mikey. Unfortunately, it was five thirty, most of the day students were at the library studying, and all of the night-class kids were filtering in to grab what they needed to stay awake for the next three and a half hours. 

 

He was working the register. Ashley was also working at the register, but she was throwing someone’s drink together when shit hit the fan. 

 

Mikey didn’t recognise him immediately, because he tried to block out most of the youth group after they had come for him and Gee. He did notice the little metal cross hanging from the guy’s backpack. He was Catholic. Mikey had a trans ally pin next to his nametag, and pretty much every queer flag bracelet available on his right arm. This could only go horribly.

 

Mikey smiled at him because he was being paid to do so. “Hi, what can I get you today?”

 

“You know those things are immoral, right?” He asked, pointing at Mikey’s bracelets as a way of introduction. He looked up at Mikey’s face, eyes narrowed and taking in every gay emblem Mikey was wearing. “You know your brother’s a pervert, and disgusting? Running around in dresses and saying he’s secretly a girl?”

 

Insulting Mikey was one thing. Insulting Mikey’s sibling, especially when they weren’t around to defend themselves, was vile. Mikey’s hand shook against the register. If he had any real arm strength, he would have broken the register. His smile wavered. “I’m sorry, we don’t have that on the menu. We ran out of unwarranted homophobia yesterday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it!


	13. How It All Fell Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt given to me in class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently listening to A Fever You Can't Sweat Out while wearing black eyeliner. Yes, you can be an adult and still be emo.

Brendon had this brilliant plan to tell everyone the truth about who he was, certain he could make it through the rest of choir tour unscathed, even if they hated him. He underestimated his own resilience, though, as well as how hellish a group of twenty teenagers living in the Bible Belt could be.

 

The church they were in was small, with maybe ten rows of pews, two of which were missing cushions. As he gazed out into the crowd of former Cub Scouts and future Sorority Girls, Brendon held the microphone to his mouth and began to recite his poem of self-discovery.

 

Their faces fell twice: once when Brendon mentioned his first kiss with a girl (in another church, in a different part of the Bible Belt), and again when he explained how he had never been a girl, and how his older brother’s stolen clothes and suits felt more comfortable than his own dresses ever had. By the end of it all, Brendon was greeted with an angry silence. His three friends, who already knew the truth, wouldn’t even look up at him. 

 

The choir director and the youth group leader stood up, and ordered everyone to leave. Brendon moved to join them, to blend back in with everyone who felt like they belonged, but he was struck back with four words.

 

“No, Bianca. Stay there.”

 

Brendon was no Bianca. He hadn’t been for a while, and his three friends knew that. He looked to them, hoping someone would jump to his defense of even stay behind with him. No one did. Spencer at least bothered to look over his shoulder as he left Brendon alone on the church stage. He gave Brendon a sad smile for an apology, but Brendon couldn’t accept it. He was alone. The door clicking shut behind Brendon confirmed it.

 

Brendon was out. He was a boy, and he was unloved by those he thought he could trust. This had not gone according to plan. 

 

His legs shook under him, but he refused to fall. He used the microphone stand to keep himself upright, and tried to convince himself that someone would come back for him. Someone would remember that one verse about loving your neighbour as yourself. Brendon closed his eyes and tilted his head back, willing the tears forming at the corners of his eyes to just go away. When someone came back to get him, Brendon didn’t want them to know that he’d been crying. Brendon didn’t want anyone to think he was weak, or too sensitive. 

 

Brendon opened his eyes and looked at the paintings on the ceiling. They were poorly made, and Jesus’s eyes looked a little crossed. He let out a single wet laugh that echoed across the room, carried out by the microphone. 

 

The door remained closed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	14. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Sarah/Linda roommate AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: says I'm going to post these on a schedule.  
> Me: does not do that.
> 
> Anyway, here's another drabble, this time with Sarah and Linda, and Linda being a small gay in college.

Linda stared at the faux wood door in front of her. Someone, probably the RA, had pasted two little elephants to the door. One read  _ Linda  _ and the other  _ Sarah _ , which was the first piece of information Linda had about her new college roommate. 

 

She just hoped that Sarah wasn’t annoying or homophobic. Linda was bisexual, and she wanted college to be her chance to explore and figure out the whole dating thing. She’d never dated in high school, she wasn’t conventionally attractive enough, and she was too out-spoken about her opinions, apparently. 

 

Linda took a deep breath and slid her key in. It turned, and with a click the door unlocked, and she pushed it open to see a half decorated dorm room. The bed on the left had been taken by Linda’s roommate, and she’d already unpacked and decorated her side of the room. It looked like something off of a study tumblr, complete with twinkling Christmas lights hung from the pipes in the cieling. 

 

Sarah, the roommate, was stretched out on her bed and posed like Rose in Titanic when she was about to get painted like a French girl. She had her laptop open and her earbuds in, and her dark hair was tied up in a messy bun. Sarah was dressed in nothing but a cute, lacy blue bra and tattered, high waisted shorts that left the bottoms of the pockets dangling out. She looked like some kind of model.

 

Linda realised she was staring at the girl and looked up at the cieling. Because that was a hell of a lot cooler than drooling over a hot girl. Totally. Linda had her shit together. 

 

“Hold on, B, my roommate just walked in,” Sarah said, and Linda looked away from the ceiling to see Sarah pulling out her earbuds and sitting up, one hand splayed gently across her upper thigh. “Hey, I’m Sarah. I’m a sophomore. What’s up?”

 

“I’m a Linda,” Linda said, because she had no idea how to speak English–or any other language, for that matter–in front of pretty girls. “I mean I’m a freshman. My name is Linda. Um. So, how do we do this?”

 

“Well, first you start with closing the door,” Sarah said. Linda did, stopping herself from apologising. She should have closed the door as soon as she realised that Sarah was half naked. She should have mentioned that she was coming in so that Sarah could put on a shirt if she was uncomfortable with random strangers seeing her in her bra. 

 

“Sorry about the whole lack of clothing thing,” Sarah said. “I’m from LA, and I never really liked wearing clothes at home anyway.”

 

“It’s fine,” Linda said. She could survive having a gorgeous roommate who didn’t like wearing anything. It would be fine, she’d just have to get used to it. “So, not to be lame, but what’s your major?”

 

“English and education,” she said. “I want to be an elementary school teacher, as cliche as that sounds. Hey, do you want help unpacking?”

 

“I can do it later,” Linda said. “I’ll just get out my sheets and stuff now.”

 

“I can help with the sheets, if you want,” Sarah said. And it wasn’t fair, that she was nice and pretty. Linda was literally going to die from being unable to do anything about her cute ass roommate. 

 

Linda agreed to let Sarah help with putting on her sheets, which then led to Sarah helping her unpack her clothes, and a few hours later, the two had unpacked all of Linda’s things, set up her lava lamp on her desk, and bonded over a shared love for Disney songs. Sarah still hadn’t put on a shirt, and now Linda was just impressed that she was willing to do all of that in a fancy bra of all things. 

 

Linda definitely had a crush. 

 

“Oh, hey, totally forgot during the unpacking thing, but my friend Brendon–I was skyping him when you came in–is having a party over at his frat house,” Sarah said, taking her pants off so that Linda had a view of her matching lacy blue panties clad ass. “I don’t know how you feel about frat parties, but it’ll probably be lowkey. We can always leave if you want, I’m really just using it as an excuse to tease Brendon about his crush on one of his frat bros and to dress up.”

 

It was a lot of information to process at once, but what it came down to was: Sarah’s friend was gay so Sarah couldn’t be too bad, and she was inviting Linda to a real college party. Linda nodded. “Hell yeah. What should I wear, by the way?”

 

Sarah grinned, and wrapped her arms around Linda’s shoulders, leading her over to her closet. “I have some ideas. Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, there won’t be a person at the party not asking who you were. You’re gonna fit in great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	15. Polyamory is Always the Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr request: Spallon + girl Spencer (and naturally my Brallencer ass turned it into Brallencer)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually do genderbends (I prefer to just say "fuck you cis people all these fuckos are TRANS NOW" and go from there), so this was interesting to write.

When Dallon got hired to work as the bassist for Panic!, one of the first things he noticed was how incredible their drummer was. Her name was Spencer, and she was really good at acting like she wasn’t affected by all the horrible things fans said about her. For some reason, the fans hated her. 

 

It didn’t take long for Dallon to realise that the reason they hated Spencer was because she got in the way of the gay (originally between Ryan and Brendon, and now between Brendon and Dallon), and because they were jealous of her. It was weird, it was rude, and it made Dallon doubly determined to assure Spencer that she was the best drummer–and person–he’d ever met. 

 

It wasn’t hard to do, since she was a genuinely nice person, and the designated adult friend in the band. It didn’t take long before Spencer and Dallon were dating (Spencer had been the one to ask Dallon out officially), and Brendon was the third wheel behind the scenes. 

 

As it turned out, Brendon did not take well to not being the favourite. It didn’t matter that Dallon and Ian both thought he was cool and hung out with him all the time. Maybe he was jealous that Spencer was the one with the older boyfriend, or maybe he was just jealous that Spencer was getting attention, but Brendon put in a lot of effort to do stage gay with Dallon.

 

Dallon didn’t mind it, because he knew (or at least thought he knew) it wasn’t real, and he was bisexual anyway. 

 

It was late now, after a show, and everyone was backstage, enjoying the post-show bliss. It had been a great show, with a really responsive crowd. Brendon and Dallon had danced around with each other for the entirety of it, and even Ian had joined in. At one point, when Brendon and Ian had both stripped down to only their pants, Dallon had just reached up between Brendon’s legs and pressed his hand against Brendon. Unsurprisingly, Brendon had messed up the next line and Dallon pulled away quickly, because he didn’t want to be the reason behind the entire song getting messed up. 

 

Dallon looked around the room, hoping to see Spencer somewhere, but he couldn’t find her. She wasn’t that hard to pick out, being one of the only girls in the tour lineup. Dallon frowned, wondering if she’d wandered off, and if so, where had she gone?

 

He texted her, just a quick, _ I’m worried, where are you _ text. Spencer didn’t respond. Dallon gave whoever could hear him a lame excuse, and then left through the door that led towards the venue. When he got out to the side of the stage, he noticed Spencer hunched over her drum kit, head in her hands and her hair covering her face. 

 

Dallon, now genuinely concerned, crossed over to her. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and she looked up at him. It was obvious she’d been crying. Spencer wiped a hand over her face anyway. “Not to sound super insecure, but, do you really like me?”

 

“What?” Dallon asked, squatting down so that he was eye-level with Spencer. “Of course I like you, you’re incredible.”

 

Spencer rolled her eyes. “I know that. But why are you and Brendon constantly flirting on-stage? And off-stage too, sometimes. I know Brendon likes you, and I know you’d be an idiot not to at least think he’s hot now, but I don’t want to keep dating you if you’re also gonna be all over Brendon like he’s your secret mistress or something.”

 

“I don’t–” Dallon started, but Spencer raised her eyebrow like she was ready to see through whatever Dallon was about to say. And Dallon was about to say that he didn’t like Brendon, which wasn’t entirely true. He had a latent, tiny interest in Brendon, but there was no point in indulging in it. He was dating Spencer. He really liked Spencer. He was probably in love with Spencer, and there was no reason to destroy that because Brendon Urie was hot, shirtless, and obviously willing to get with Dallon. 

 

Dallon let out a sigh. “Look, Brendon’s attractive, but I don’t want to date him, or kiss him, or any of the things I can do with you. Am doing with you. If I wanted to, I could probably date Brendon, but I don’t. I want to date you, because you’re hilarious and sweet and the dorkiest, prettiest woman I’ve ever met.”

 

“Including Breezy?” Breezy was Dallon’s ex, who he’d been dating when he first met Spencer and Brendon. They were on good terms, and had broken up before Dallon became a part of the band.

Dallon nodded. “Even Breezy. She’s great, but you’re better. You make me really happy, and if what me and Brendon do onstage makes you uncomfortable, I can always get him to stop.”

 

“You don’t have to do that for me,” Spencer frowned.

 

“But I want to,” Dallon said. “For you.”

 

Spencer tapped her finger against her lips. They were still a dark red from the stage makeup, and she looked beautifully deadly in the darkened venue lights. She dropped her gaze to Dallon’s hands, which were resting on his knees, and then looked up at him through her lashes. “Or… what about this? Since Brendon’s so interested in you, why don’t we see if he’s interested in us both? After all, I got you first, and I’ve always said I was open to dating multiple people.”

 

“Wait, you mean, like, polyamory?” Dallon asked. Spencer nodded. Of course, he’d heard about polyamory, but he didn’t know if it would work with him, Spencer, and Brendon. There were too many variables. Also, there was Ian, who was a part of the band, at least for now, and Dallon didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. 

 

But also, if he could date Spencer and Brendon… why wouldn’t he? He was already living with them, since they were all crammed together on the tour bus and sleeping in each other’s spaces. Dallon reached out and took Spencer’s hand in his, squeezing gently. “I’d be willing to try, but we’ll need to ask Brendon out for real. We can’t just decide he’s our boyfriend.”

 

“Alright,” Spencer smiled. She leaned in and kissed Dallon on the lips, and then he pulled her up from where she was sitting. “Let’s go get a boyfriend.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed it!


	16. Ski Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was Petekey and skiing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I am the worst I keep forgetting that I have this... anyway, here's some Petekey fluff, happy Thursday!

_ I hate Pete I hate Pete I hate Pete I hate Pete I hate Pete I hate Pete _ –the words are a constant loop in Mikey’s head as he tries to keep from running into a tree yet again. He grips his poles tighter and pulls his hands in towards his torso as he hits another steep bump in the trail. 

 

It was Pete’s idea to use their day off to go explore the mountain they skiied all day. Pete and Mikey had been working together at the resort’s ski school for the past three winters, and they’d started dating last winter, when Pete asked Mikey to go out for New Year’s drinks with some of the other instructors and they kissed at midnight. 

 

Mikey loved Pete, really, but the guy was really bad at picking trails. How else would he end up on a steep, unmarked trail deep in the trees off of a bunch of black diamond runs? Mikey, had he been on his own or with Gee, would have had the sense to stay on the fucking trail.

 

But Pete wanted an adventure, and Mikey was willing to give it to him, just this once. 

 

However, Mikey would probably bonk Pete in the helmet with one of his poles once they were both out of this mess of a trail. He had to. It was the spirit of the thing. 

 

Eventually, and after many near falls, Mikey burst back onto the real trail. He flew out of the trees faster than he should have, and bounced across quite a few moguls before slowing down enough that he could stop completely. His thighs burned. He had no idea where Pete was, just that Pete had gone into the trees first. 

 

Mikey turned around and skied back over towards the trees he’d just come out of, looking up into them to see if he could get a glimpse of Pete’s bright yellow jacket. He stood there for a while before Pete came into view, a blur of yellow against the dark shadows of the trees and the stark white of the snow. 

 

Pete burst out of the trees in a similar fashion to how Mikey had exited. He was covered in snow, like he’d either run into a tree or fallen (or both), and his jacket was askew. Mikey waited until Pete skied back around to right below Mikey, and then he lifted his goggles and made a face at his boyfriend. “Were you cheating on me with the snow drifts back there? Because you’ve got a bunch of white stuff on your jacket…”

 

“Haha, very funny,” Pete stuck his tongue out. “I hit something and fell. Both my poles came off, and I lost a ski. Getting a ski back in the trees is a pain in the ass, also my wrist hurts.”

 

“Did you sprain it?” Mikey asked, suddenly worried. He’d broken his hand skiing once, back when he was just a teenager and was a lot more reckless. He’d been going too fast and hadn’t been able to stop in time to avoid his 6′4″ uncle, and had taken both himself and his uncle down, both of them landing solidly on Mikey’s hand and his pole. Sometimes, when it got really cold, Mikey’s left hand would get stiff and remind him of when he broke it.

 

Pete shook his head. “Nah, probably just bruising. You wanna go to the base and grab a cider? It’s almost closing time, anyway, and we don’t have our instructor privileges today.”

 

“Cider sounds good,” Mikey said. He dropped his goggles down onto this face and grinned. “Last one there is paying.”

 

Mikey skied off, a whoosh of navy blue and grey against the mountain. He heard Pete yell “you fucker!” before Pete followed him down, and Mikey laughed loudly. They were the only ones on this trail, partially because it was late in the day and partially because the trail was near the back of the mountain and was hard to get to on accident. It was one of the more challenging areas on the mountain, but (excluding the trees) one of Mikey’s favourites because of how unused it was. 

 

Sometimes, when it wasn’t the height of the skiing season, Mikey could come back here with whoever and they’d be the only ones for hours. It was the best thing about living out in the Rockies, in Mikey’s opinion. 

 

Mikey, because he felt bad about Pete falling and because Gee’s new partners had bought him pizza last night, let Pete get ahead of him near the base of the mountain. They took off their skis and poles, leaning them up against one of the racks by the ski school. Mikey took his helmet off, shaking his hair out and knowing it had to look bad. 

 

Pete grinned and pulled him in for a kiss anyway, and Mikey kissed him back because his boyfriend was pretty great even if he did make badly thought out decisions while skiing. Pete grabbed Mikey’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll go get our boots from the lockers, you go grab a booth and get some cider.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Mikey said, and kissed Pete again before heading off to do exactly what Pete had suggested. Luckily, the bar where they often got cider and chips after a long day of skiing had one booth still available. Mikey snagged it while getting one of the waiter’s attention. Mikey knew pretty much everyone at the resort by this point, because he’d been skiing here longer than he’d been working, and he was pretty good at remembering faces. He ordered a cider for himself and Pete, and then a plate of chips and queso for them to split. 

 

Pete returned with their street boots a minute or so before the food and drinks arrived, which was enough time for them to get into comfortable footwear and for Pete to slide in next to Mikey and basically spoon him in the booth. He leaned his head back against Mikey’s shoulder and took a bite of a tortilla chip. “Good day, Mikeyway?”

 

“Any day with you is a good day,” Mikey said. He stole Pete’s chip, dipped it in the queso, and ate it. 

 

“How could you.”

 

“I paid for this,” Mikey said, and sipped on his cider even though it was still too warm to fully enjoy. 

 

“Yeah, but you got them to share, you nerd,” Pete said, booping Mikey on the nose. “So share.”

 

“Sure, fine, I’ll share with you,” Mikey said. He dipped a different chip in the queso, and offered it to Pete. Pete winked, and ate it straight from Mikey’s hand, letting his tongue dart out to lick Mikey’s finger. Mikey raised an eyebrow. “You weirdo.”

 

“You love me.”

 

“Yeah, I really do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave kudos/a comment if you enjoyed!


	17. Quit It Or I'll Bite (Brallencer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was the phrase "quit it or I'll bite" + brallencer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remembered to update this time. Ta-da.
> 
> Also, there's a Rywalk version of this prompt that'll be up next week, because I got the same prompt twice but for the two different pairings.

“Quit it or I’ll bite,” Spencer said as Brendon started singing Toto’s Africa for what must have been the seventh time that day. Dallon, who was on the opposite end of the couch and had Spencer’s legs in his lap, knew that it wasn’t an empty threat. Brendon’s arm was over Spencer’s chest, and, well, Spencer did like biting. Usually during sex, but Dallon wouldn’t be surprised if Spencer preferred to fight dirty.

 

Brendon, either because he was a masochist (he was) or because he just didn’t believe Spencer would actually go through with his threat, continued singing. He shot pointed glances at Dallon, silently requesting Dallon join in, but Dallon knew better. He just shook his head. “Bren, no. This isn’t a musical. This is a tour bus.”

 

“Boring,” Brendon said, and then started singing Boring, because he was a fucker. Dallon sighed. Brendon sung louder, and then suddenly let out a yelp. Spencer was laughing, and when Dallon looked back over, Brendon was holding his arm and pouting down at Spencer. “Dude, what the hell? You actually bit me?”

 

“You doubted me?” Spencer said, flipping over without kicking Dallon in the face so that he was propped up on his elbows.

 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it, what the fuck?” Brendon rubbed at his arm. His eyes flicked up to Dallon. “Dal, your boyfriend’s an asshole.”

 

“He’s your boyfriend too,” Dallon said, patting Spencer’s butt lovingly. Spencer just wiggled. Dallon couldn’t see his face, but he was pretty sure that Spencer was grinning up at Brendon, because Brendon extended his pout before sticking his tongue out at both of them.

 

Brendon slid off the couch and onto the floor of the bus. “Wow, okay, I can tell when I’m not appreciated. It’s not like I’m the front man of our band or anything.”

 

“We appreciate you,” Dallon said. “We just wish you’d change up your music every once in a while.”

 

“I don’t even mind the 80s, but please, never sing Africa again. I think you managed to ruin that song for me,” Spencer said. He folded his arms and rested his head on them, reaching out with one hand to ruffle Brendon’s hair in case Brendon didn’t realise that they were both only teasing him out of love.

 

Brendon leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “That’s pretty impressive. Hey, Dal, join me on the floor.”

 

“Why?” Dallon asked. The couch, for being on a bus, was pretty comfortable.

 

“Because Spencer has nice hands and you need to experience this.”

 

“Stop exploiting me,” Spencer said as he continued to run his hand through Brendon’s hair. He lifted his legs so that Dallon could join Brendon on the floor, so he was at least up to the idea. Dallon liked people (specifically, his boyfriends) touching his hair, so he joined Brendon, and leaned into Spencer’s other hand.

 

“You know, this isn’t half bad,” Dallon said. Brendon, his eyes still closed, raised an eyebrow. Dallon bumped their shoulders together. “Being on tour, getting to be with you two all the time. It’s pretty nice.”

 

Brendon nodded, and immediately started belting out Africa. Again. Spencer’s head suddenly appeared in front of Dallon, his hair in Dallon’s face. Brendon made an “oh, fuck” noise, and then pulled his legs up close to his chest. Dallon laughed, and swung around so that he was on the other side of Brendon and could see that, yes, Spencer had attached himself to the base of Brendon’s neck and was working a hickey there like his life depended on it.

 

Using Brendon’s surprise to his advantage, Dallon swooped in and kissed Brendon on the mouth. Brendon melted beneath them both, his hands weakly coming up to touch at Dallon’s face. Dallon felt Spencer pull away and kiss both of them on the tops of their heads, and so he pulled back from Brendon. Brendon looked up at him with slightly dazed eyes. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

 

“The biting threat wasn’t a one time thing, just so you’re aware,” Spencer said.

 

Dallon looked up at him. “You know that’s not going to deter him, right?”

 

Spencer just winked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	18. Quit it or I'll Bite (Rywalk)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same prompt as the previous ficlet, but this time with Jon and Ryan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I ever remember to keep a schedule with this? Probably not. Anyway, here's some Rywalk, because it's a good ship and the world needs more of it.

“Quit it or I’ll bite,” Jon said from the other room. Ryan stopped what he was doing–which was going through Spencer’s movie collection–and made a face. He and Jon were the only ones in the house other than Spencer’s dogs, because Spencer was off on an anniversary vacation with his two boyfriends, and Jon and Ryan were dog/house sitting. So Ryan had no idea who Jon was threatening to bite.

 

He leaned around the door frame to see Jon on the floor, play wrestling with one of the dogs. That did not clarify the situation at all.

 

The other dog skittered around the couch and jumped on Jon’s back. Jon, laughing, reached back and wiggled his hand at Penny as she barked at him. “I’m not kidding. If you two are stooping to that level, so am I.”

 

“Jon, don’t bite the dogs,” Ryan said, because sometimes he couldn’t tell when Jon was being serious or not.

 

Jon let go of the toy and sat up slowly so that Penny could hop off of him and onto one of the kitchen chairs. “Hey babe. I wasn’t going to bite the dogs, but they didn’t know that. Gotta keep them on their toes somehow.”

 

“Do you have any idea how dogs work?” Ryan said, thinking about their house, in another Los Angeles neighbourhood, that had two official cats and then a handful of unofficial cats that hung around because Jon and Ryan left out food for them. 

 

“Yeah, they’re like cats except not as cute,” Jon said, scratching behind Bogart’s ears. Ryan rolled his eyes and sat down in front of Jon, their knees barely touching. Jon leaned in and kissed him, and it was sweet until one of the dogs got in between them and started licking at Ryan’s face. Ryan scooted back, holding the dog–Penny–away from him. Jon was laughing.

 

Ryan stuck his tongue out. “Hey, fuck you, you’re not even a dog person.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re adorable,” Jon said. “And your attempts to stop her from licking you are futile. Trust me, I’ve been trying for hours.”

 

“I’m pretty sure we’ve only been here for like twenty minutes,” Ryan said, and then let go of Penny because she was squirming in his arms and Bogart was barking at him. Obviously he just wasn’t meant to be a dog dad. Ryan shook his head. “How does Spencer put up with those two?”

 

“The people or the dogs?”

 

“Dogs,” Ryan said. “I know how he puts up with people.”

 

Jon picked up the dog toy and tossed it around. “See, this is why I prefer cats. They don’t get spit everywhere, and I don’t have to worry about them getting too big and taking one of us out because they’re too excited to see us.”

 

“Good point,” Ryan said.

 

“But if you ever wanted to get a dog of our own, I’d support you,” Jon said. “Or, like anything, really. Except a person. We can’t just kidnap a person.”

 

“We can adopt a person.”

 

“Yeah,” Jon said, nodding slowly. He stared Ryan down. “Wait, was that a serious suggestion or a Jon, let’s not be so obviously illegal suggestion?”

 

“Both?” Ryan said. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

 

Jon kissed his forehead. “Well, if you still mean it when we get home, we can actually talk about it. I wouldn’t mind being something other than just a cat dad.”

 

“Yeah, and then when we go on vacation, we can make Spence do all the babysitting,” Ryan said. “See how he likes that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!!


	19. Why Do You Only Kiss Me When I'm Sleeping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep forgetting about this, sorry.

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?” Mikey asked one day while he and Pete were tangled up together on their couch. 

 

It was almost October. Warped had been over for two months, and somehow, Mikey and Pete were still together. Things weren’t perfect, because Pete Wentz was involved and he had never done anything perfectly, but they were managing. 

 

Or so Pete thought. He brought his legs up to his chest, like some kind of protective barrier from Mikey. “I don’t know.”

 

Mikey looked at Pete from over the top of his glasses. Pete knew that Mikey couldn’t see for shit when he did that, and only did it to make a point. The point, in this situation, was that Mikey could see through Pete’s shit and knew that there was a reason behind Pete’s sudden change in affection. On Warped, they’d constantly been together. Never in front of the cameras, of course, but whenever they were away from the crowds, they were with each other. In each other’s spaces. 

 

They couldn’t get enough of each others tastes. Now, Pete kept dodging Mikey’s kisses. 

 

“Pete, come on,” Mikey said. “We’re both back in the studio for now. We’re not in public a lot, we don’t have to worry about people catching us and outing us before we’re ready. What gives?”

 

“I don’t know,” Pete repeated, even though he did. He knew, but he wasn’t sure how to verbalise it. He was a writer, a guy who knew how to twist words and make them into his bitch, but not today. Not now, with Mikey’s feet pressed against his, and a house in Jersey that they could call their own. Pete swallowed. “I just can’t believe you’re real.”

 

“What?”

 

“This feels like it shouldn’t be happening, you know?” Pete continued. Maybe he’d make this work, and get Mikey to understand it. “Like, we were great and perfect all summer long, and it worked in the chaos of constantly moving around. Now we’re here, and we’re not moving, and we have a couch and a house and, fucking,  _ we’ve got dinner plates, Mikey _ .”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Mikey said, like he was waiting for the punchline. “Frank broke one last week and he still hasn’t gotten me a replacement.”

 

“What I mean is, we’re domestic,” Pete said, and slowly started letting his legs tangle back with Mikey’s. “I’ve never been domestic with anyone before, and it feels too real to actually  _ be real _ , you know? I never thought I’d get this far with anyone, let alone you, and now that I’m here, I can’t actually believe it.”

 

“Pete, I’m not going anywhere,” Mikey said. He looked like he was about to jump across the couch and pull Pete into his arms, but he didn’t move. Maybe he was being serious. He did put his hand on Pete’s knee, though, and the feeling was comforting. “I’m staying with you, just like I said when Warped ended and we talked about ending it.”

 

“And you’re real?” Pete said. He waved his hand around the living room. “This is all real? It’s not going to just suddenly disappear if I start kissing you and acting like you’re my boyfriend with a capital B?”

 

“Pete, you couldn’t make me leave if you tried.”

 

“You severely underestimate how annoying I can get,” Pete said. Mikey did that stare thing again. Pete gave in, and placed his hand over Mikey’s. “I get what you’re saying, and I believe you. I believe  _ in _ you.”

 

“I believe in  _ us _ ,” Mikey countered. 

 

Pete moved their hands so that his fingers were intertwined with Mikey’s. “So, does that mean I can kiss you now?”

 

“You can kiss me always,” Mikey said, and closed the distance before Pete could try and argue with that. He didn’t really want to. This, kissing his boyfriend on their couch in their house, was probably the best reality Pete could get. He was just glad he ended up in this one and not one where he didn’t choose Mikey.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	20. Spooky Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you thought I forgot about this. 
> 
> You're right, I did. I'm the worst at keeping up with shit.

“So you’ve never snuck in to see an R rated movie?” Spencer asked Brendon. Brendon shook his head, hoping that Spencer wouldn’t laugh at him and call him a loser or anything. But Spencer wasn’t laughing. He had this serious look on his face. “Are you doing anything later today?”

 

“No,” Brendon said, slowly. “Why?”

 

“We’re going to go see a movie,” Spencer said. “I’ll text Ryan, he won’t care. But I’m going to take you to the movie theatre, and we’re gonna sneak into one of the R rated ones and you’re going to get that experience.”

 

“Okay. What do I tell my mom?”

 

“What do you usually tell your mom when you come over?” Spencer asked. He knew that Brendon’s parents had no idea about the band, or what Brendon got up to with his bandmates when they were done with band practice and just didn’t want to go home. It was never anything  _ bad _ , just normal teenage boy shenanigans. Brendon’s parents didn’t like most teenage shenanigans. 

 

Brendon nodded. “Good point. I’ll figure something out.”

 

He ended up telling his mom that Spencer’s parents wanted to have him over for dinner, to get to meet some of their son’s friends. It was a lie, but Spencer’s parents would probably go with it since they’d already met Brendon and they liked him. Or at least pretended to like him, for Spencer’s sake. 

 

Brendon sat on his front steps, waiting for Spencer to show up. The sun was starting to set, but finally Spencer was there, pulling up in front of Brendon’s house, rolling his window down, and grinning at Brendon like he was the best thing Spencer had seen in days. It was no wonder Brendon was a little in love with him. Who wouldn’t be? 

 

Brendon didn’t pay attention to what movie they were sneaking into, because he was more focused on how Spencer had bought him popcorn and that was totally a date thing. Obviously. There was no other explanation. 

 

They settled into the back row of the theatre, with no one in front of them, and Spencer placed the popcorn between them. “It’s probably going to be a shitty movie, by the way. This kind of stuff usually is.”

 

“What do you mean?” Brendon asked. 

 

“It’s a horror movie, Bren,” Spencer said. “They’re never good.”

 

Brendon nodded, and scooted a little closer to Spencer. They finished the popcorn before the trailers were over, and Spencer sat the empty bucket down on the floor before pulling Brendon in close and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Brendon could feel the blush on his cheeks, and he was glad that the theatre was dark, even as he snuggled in against Spencer. 

 

On screen, the guy in a mask raised his chainsaw and the girl and her boyfriend both screamed. Brendon jumped a little, and Spencer let out a soft laugh and pulled Brendon in closer. He leaned against Brendon. “Maybe we should have gone for something else.”

 

“This is fine, I just wasn’t expecting chainsaws this early,” Brendon whispered. He felt Spencer nod against his head. 

 

They spent the rest of the movie like that. Sometimes, Spencer or Brendon would shift around to try and get more comfortable (because cuddling in a movie theatre was not as comfortable as the movies made it out to be), and Brendon’s breath would catch in his throat because this was really happening. He was in the back of a theatre, curled up next to his crush, and jumping whenever anything spooked him on the screen. 

 

For a moment, he wondered if this was a date. Spencer was bi, he’d said so at one point, so maybe… but probably not. Brendon wasn’t that attractive, or funny or anything. His mom said he was, but she’d been wrong about a lot of Brendon’s personality, so he didn’t know if he could trust her there. 

 

When the movie finished, Brendon started to pull away from Spencer, to make sure it didn’t get awkward. Spencer held onto him, though, pulling him back in. “Dude, we have to stay for the credits.”

 

“Why?” Brendon whispered. There were maybe seven other people in the theatre. Spencer had been right, and the movie  _ had  _ been really bad. 

 

“In case there’s a secret scene at the end, duh,” Spencer said. Brendon could hear him breathing. “And also because I kind of want to spend more time with you.”

 

“We can do that somewhere that isn’t a movie theatre, you know,” Brendon said. He didn’t want to move away from Spencer. He just didn’t want to be in the dark, because he was a little more spooked than he was letting on.

 

Spencer sighed against Brendon’s hair. “How obvious do I have to be, Bren? I like you, and I like spending time with you, and I was kind of hoping you’d realise this was supposed to be a date.”

 

“Oh,” Brendon said, because maybe he should have noticed that. “Whoops.”

 

There was a moment of awkwardness between the two of them, where the only sound was the creepy music coming from the credits on the screen. Brendon tilted his head back so that he could see the highlights of Spencer’s face in the darkness. “So, is it a date?”

 

“Do you want it to be?”

 

“…yes?”

 

“Then it is one,” Spencer said. His eyes flicked downward, and he was looking right at Brendon. For once, Brendon picked up on the signals and sat up so that he could kiss Spencer. It wasn’t a perfect kiss, because Brendon missed a little, but it was pretty great. Brendon pulled back, long enough to see Spencer’s face in the dark and see that he was smiling, and then they were kissing again. 

 

And again, and again.

 


	21. One of them's Missing

“One of them’s missing.” Dallon said to Brendon. Brendon looked over all of the kids they were in charge of again. There were supposed to be fourteen, but Dallon was right, and one of them was missing.  _ Shit _ , Brendon thought.  _ We are officially the worst camp counselors ever. Also, where the hell is Spence? _

 

Since Brendon and Dallon had had so many kids in their group, they’d also gotten to work with Spencer. That turned out to be a good thing, because it meant the three of them got a nicer counselor cabin, with a queen sized bed and a real bathtub. The first night there, they drove out to the nearest convenience store, bought a thing of bubble bath, and proceeded to use about half of it and almost flood the room. 

 

Brendon loved being in a relationship with these two guys. Really, he did. Except now, he and Dallon were short both a kid and a Spencer. Which was bad. They were supposed to be taking the kids down to the arts and crafts room, but they couldn’t leave the music area if they didn’t have their fourteenth kid and Spencer. 

 

“Spencer’s also missing,” Brendon added. “One of us has to go find them.”

 

“You do it,” Dallon said, watching as one of the kids--they were all between the ages of eleven and fourteen--tried to serenade the rest with a guitar. He sucked, in Brendon’s opinion, but he appreciated the kid’s effort. 

 

“Why?” Brendon asked. 

 

Dallon stared down at him. “Because I don’t trust you with any amount of children. You are a children.”

 

“That’s the ugliest sentence you’ve ever said,” Brendon retorted. Dallon shrugged. “Yeah, but it’s true.”

 

Brendon stuck out his tongue, which got him a “see? A  _ child _ ,” from Dallon, but he went in search of his other boyfriend and the final kid anyway. They were easy to find, because as soon as Brendon turned the corner, he heard the faint sounds of someone drumming, and knew that the fourteenth child--whose name Brendon had yet to learn--was a drummer and had bonded with Spencer over percussion things. 

 

Brendon opened the door to the percussion room, and sure enough, there was Spencer and a little girl with thick, curly hair. The girl was going at the drums like they’d personally attacked her family, and Spencer was watching with a grin on his face. He looked up when he sensed Brendon’s presence. “Hey. We found the good drumkit.”

 

“Spencer’s super good at drumming!” The girl said, placing her sticks in her lap. “He’s been teaching me.”

 

“Really? Nice,” Brendon said, and he meant it. He winked at Spencer. “Unfortunately, we’ve got to go to the arts and crafts stuff now, so you two are going to have to leave the drum cave. You can probably come back during free time, though. Probably.”

 

The girl looked up at Spencer with big eyes. “Please?”

 

“Sure,” Spencer nodded, standing up. He waited for the girl to put up her drumsticks and head out the door and then came over to Brendon. He kissed Brendon, quickly. “Sorry for disappearing, she just really wanted to learn how to drum.”

 

“I thought it was cute,” Brendon said. “But we should probably head back before Dallon does something dumb like trust the kids to stay put while he looks for us.”

 

“You think we can all sneak off during arts and crafts? Because I’m really bad at painting and I kind of want to kiss you guys for real,” Spencer said. 

 

Brendon grinned. “Totally.”

 

When they got back to Dallon, he looked them up and down like he thought they’d been making out without him. Brendon quietly made sure he knew that, no, they hadn’t, they’d just been talking about it, and Dallon’s eyes lit up when Brendon mentioned that they might be able to sneak away during arts and crafts, because it wasn’t like they’d be teaching it or anything. 

 

Dallon held Brendon’s hand in his own and squeezed it gently. “Sounds like a plan.”


	22. I May Be An Idiot, But I'm Not Stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is somewhat based off of a skiing adventure that my mom and some of her friends had when they were younger. 
> 
> ....I like skiing, shh.

“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.” That, of course, was Brendon’s logic behind going on a ski vacation for their one year anniversary. Spencer thought it was a great idea--apparently he’d always wanted to go snowboarding--and Dallon didn’t hate the idea or anything, he just didn’t see how it could end well. 

 

Spencer and Brendon had never gone snowboarding before, and they weren’t taking lessons, because according to Spencer, boarding was just like skateboarding, except with snow. Dallon, because he didn’t want to die or break his legs, was sticking to skiing. He’d done it a few times, back when he lived in Utah and there were mountains nearby, and it had been pretty fun. He also knew that it got really cold at the top of the mountain, and his boyfriends, both of whom were used to warm climates, would probably be spending a lot of time complaining about the cold. 

 

Dallon was almost expecting it. He wasn’t however, expecting their first day on the mountain to be the first day of a snow storm. According to the guy behind the register at the rental place, the resort they were at was supposed to get about six inches during the day. 

 

The snowfall on it’s own wasn’t bad. It was cold, duh, but it was a reasonable cold. Brendon and Spencer figured out how not to fall on their asses every three seconds within an hour, and soon the three of them were headed towards the top of the mountain. 

 

They were on a chairlift, Spencer in the middle and Dallon and Brendon arguing about where they wanted to go next, when shit started to hit the fan. Dallon had never had a problem with snow. It was annoying to scrape off his car in the mornings, and shovelling his driveway had never been a thrilling activity during his childhood, but for the most part, snow was either bearable or fun. Wind, however. Wind was a pain in the ass. It made a nice, 23 degree day feel like 3 degrees, and it got snow everywhere. Down shirts, through jackets, under hats, you name it. Dallon was not a fan of wind. 

 

Wind turned out to be terrifying when on a chairlift, about thirty or so feet in the air. The chair in front of them, which didn’t have anyone in it, was tilting about fifteen degrees to the left. Dallon turned, gripping his poles tighter so they didn’t fly away (he really did not want to go after them), and said, “we should probably not be out in this.”

 

“There’s a warming hut at the top of this lift, and apparently a chili bar,” Spencer said. Spencer paid attention to things, thankfully. “We can hang out there until this calms down.”

 

“Are we sure it’s going to calm down?” Brendon said. “Because, no offense, but this looks like the kind of thing where people get trapped for days on end. And I like chili, but I really don’t want to get stuck at the top of a mountain for a week.”

 

“It should stop in a few hours, but we can ask the chili bar guy when we get there,” Spencer said. Dallon nodded, and Brendon seemed satisfied with Spencer’s answer, and so the three of them finished their ride to the top in silence. They skied off, into the wind, and towards the little building that advertised food, warmth, and bathrooms. Spencer and Brendon headed in ahead of Dallon, because they only had a board each to put up, and Dallon had a pair of skis and a pair of poles. By the time he got in, Brendon and Spencer had settled into a booth away from the door, and Brendon was talking to a woman with a braid and a red turtleneck. 

 

Dallon came up to the booth and tossed his jacket on top of Spencer’s before coming around to the other side and sitting down beside Brendon. He took off his helmet, gloves, and face mask, and shook his hair out. It was probably a mess.

 

“Dal, you want anything to drink?” Brendon asked, not at all subtly putting his hand on Dallon’s thigh. Brendon had never done anything subtle in his life. 

 

“Do you guys have any cider?” Dallon asked the girl. 

 

She nodded. “Yep. Non-alcoholic fine with you too?”

 

Dallon nodded, and she walked off to go get their drinks. Dallon leaned against Brendon, closing his eyes for a moment and just enjoying the warmth of being inside. Spencer reached over Brendon’s head and ran his hand through Dallon’s hair. Dallon opened his eyes, turned his head towards the two of them, and kissed Brendon’s hair. That poor waitress was probably so confused. Dallon really did not care. He sighed. “How long are we going to be stuck here?”

 

“Just a few hours,” Brendon said, nuzzling against Dallon’s neck. “Apparently the wind’s supposed to let up around two thirty, but the snow isn’t. Which sucks, because the snow is fucking cold.”

 

“Baby, we’re skiing. It’s going to be cold no matter what,” Spencer said, and kissed behind Brendon’s ear without even looking to see if the waitress was paying attention to them. 

 

Brendon flicked Spencer in the chin, gently. “Shut up. I know how snow works.”


	23. Get Better Soon

“Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.” The words would have held more weight if Brendon hadn’t been curled up into a corner of a couch and swaddled in four different blankets. He looked miserable. Spencer, on the other end of the couch and wrapped in only two blankets, looked equally bad. 

 

Dallon shook his head. “Sorry, but running around and holding class until you pass out is not taking care of yourself. Both of you are banned to the couch until you get better.”

 

“I’m hosting a reading tonight,” Spencer whined, and then immediately started coughing into his blankets. Dallon leaned over the back of the couch and handed Spencer his cup of tea first, so that he didn’t asphyxiate himself and die. Dallon didn’t make enough to pay for the hospital bills. 

 

Dallon kissed the top of Spencer’s head before walking around to the front of the couch and handing Brendon a glass of water. “I can cover for you, or let the other hosts know that you won’t be there. Whichever you think is best.”

 

Spencer sipped from his tea, holding the cup with both hands and keeping the blanket over his body. “That depends. How well do you know modern queer poetry?”

 

“Considering I go to Ryan’s slams?” Dallon said. “Quite a lot. And besides, I can read up on some of the stuff while you and Bren stay hydrated.”

 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Brendon said. He hadn’t touched his water. He really didn’t know how to take care of himself. “I can make my own soup, and Spencer’s, and we’ll be fine.”

 

“Dude, you got sick from trying to get me un-sick,” Spencer said. “And now you’ve got the plague, plus the stomach bug Dallon had last week. If Dallon says you shouldn’t leave the couch, you shouldn’t leave the couch.”

 

“Dallon’s not a doctor.”

 

“No,” Dallon said, handing Brendon his water again and hoping that his boyfriend would drink it this time. “But my mom was and I got sick a lot as a kid. I know what I’m doing.”

 

Brendon glared at him, weakly. Brendon didn’t have a foot to stand on, though, considering that he’d actually passed out while teaching class the previous day. He’d also been up all night getting sick, and was only just now starting to look better. 

 

Dallon crouched by the couch. “Babe, I know you hate being cooped up, but trust me: this is going to make things easier for everyone.”

 

“I still hate it,” Brendon said, pouting. 

 

“I hate it too,” Spencer said. “We can suffer together and watch shitty movies while Dallon’s out filling in for me. Maybe even build a pillow fort.”

 

“No pillow forts,” Dallon said. He didn’t want the two of them moving around too much when they were under the weather. Also, he was worried that Brendon would get sick again. 

 

Spencer sighed from behind his tea. “Fine. No pillow forts.”

 

“You’re a mean doctor,” Brendon said. 

 

“Well, maybe when you two are feeling better, I can be your sexy little nurse,” Dallon said, standing up. He headed towards the kitchen, to pull out the stuff Spencer and Brendon would need to make soup in a few hours. He heard Brendon attempt to call after him, “wait is that a sex thing?” and smiled to himself. Dallon couldn’t wait until they were all at one-hundred percent again.

 


	24. Ski Trip (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Petekey skiing! Yay!
> 
> There will probably be more skiing ficlets in the future because I enjoy skiing and we're going again this winter. Hopefully. If there's actually snow in Utah...

“Well this is awkward,” Pete said from the bedroom of the hotel they were renting. 

 

Mikey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “What.”

 

“I don’t have any clean pants,” Pete said. He was still in the bedroom. Mikey had seen him naked, and the curtains were pulled, so there was no reason for him to be hiding back there. They didn’t wear pants much at home anyway, because pants were annoying.

 

“We did laundry two days ago,” Mikey said. “Just borrow some of mine and we’ll figure it out later.”

 

“Your legs are too long!”

 

“I  _ will _ leave you here,” Mikey said.

 

“Okay, I’ll steal your pants, hold on,” Pete said. Mikey could hear the faint sounds of him scrambling around to finish getting ready. Mikey checked his phone to see what time it was. They weren’t too far behind schedule, but today was the only day it mattered when they got onto the slopes. Pete and Mikey were meeting up with Mikey’s sister, her wife, and their daughter for the day, and it was supposed to be a Way family vacation. Gee had mentioned something about their mom coming up too, but Mikey wasn’t sure if that had worked out in the end. 

 

Mikey heard the familiar sound of someone walking in bibs, and then Pete was wrapping his arms around Mikey’s waist and pressing a kiss against his jaw. “Ready, baby. Let’s go be cool uncles.”

 

“You need boots,” Mikey said. 

 

Pete immediately kicked at Mikey’s socked feet. “So do you.”

 

“Yeah, but I actually know where my stuff is,” Mikey said. “So I don’t have to worry about it.”

 

Pete narrowed his eyes. “Did you hide my pants?”

 

“No,” Mikey said, except that he had. Pete’s jeans were all ridiculous, and super skinny, and Mikey didn’t understand why he insisted on wearing them under ski bibs. They didn’t keep out the cold, they were hard to move around in, and most of them had holes. 

 

Obviously, Mikey had his fair share of ripped jeans, but he left those back home. He liked having warm knees, thank you very much.

 

He and Pete put their boots on and collected the rest of the gear before throwing on jackets and heading to their car. It had snowed overnight, and so Mikey had to fish out the ice scraper and use the brush to get all of the snow off. Pete was sitting inside the car and singing along to something on the radio. 

 

Mikey couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend. Pete’s singing voice was bad, but that never stopped him. He was a dork, and he was adorable, and Mikey loved him. 

 

Mikey finished scraping off the front windows of the car and got inside. He leaned across and kissed Pete on the cheek. “Your singing was beautiful, honey.”

 

“Thanks. I perform only for the prettiest boys,” Pete said, and winked. He kissed Mikey before taking the car out of park and starting down the road to the base of the resort. 

 

Mikey reached out and put his hand over Pete’s, squeezing it gently. “Oh, and I did hide your pants. I like seeing you in my clothes.”

 

“I’ll allow it,” Pete said. He winked. “But I’ll make sure to give them back later tonight.”

 


	25. New Girl

“Why are you so nice to me?” Lynn asked the blue haired girl who was helping her grab all of her papers. Lynn had moved to California only a few weeks ago, and had already been made into the school’s target. She couldn’t help it; she just reeked of gayness, and wore all black. 

 

“Because everyone here is an ass,” the girl said. As if to prove her point, a guy walking by them put his foot down on a small stack of Lynn’s papers and kicked out, flinging the papers further down the hall. 

 

The girl stood up. “What the fuck, man? Don’t you have better shit to do?”

 

The guy laughed. “You wish, psycho bitch. Why don’t you suck the principal’s dick if you’re so pissed at us?”

 

“Go fuck yourself,” she spat, before spinning back around and returning to help Lynn. She let out a long sigh. “High school guys are the worst.”

 

“I don’t know,” Lynn said. “My friends at my old high school were both guys, and they were pretty okay.”

 

“You’re lucky, then,” she said, smiling. She handed over a stack of paper and a notebook, and Lynn reminded herself to clean out her backpack when she got home from school that day. If people were going to kick her around because she was gay, she’d like to have less shit to clean up. 

 

“I’m Ash, by the way,” the girl said. “I should have introduced myself when we first met, but I was too busy being angry at those jerks who kept yanking your braid.”

 

“I remember that,” Lynn said. “They were so annoying. I’m Lynn, by the way. Thanks for helping me pick up all my stuff.”

 

Ash shrugged. “It’s fine. I was planning on skipping class anyway. This just gives me an excuse.”

 

Lynn laughed a little at that. She’d never skipped class much before, because her old school was out in the middle of nowhere and she didn’t have a car on campus. Now, though, she was living in downtown Los Angeles, and everything seemed to be within walking distance. 

 

“Oh, hey, did you want to come with me?” Ash asked, perking up. She had a really pretty face, with long eyelashes and a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. “We can grab lunch, or whatever. It’s better than the cafeteria here, at least.”

 

“I’d love to, actually,” Lynn said. She grabbed the last few papers from where they’d been kicked down the hall and shoved them into her locker. She grabbed her backpack from off the floor and slung it over one shoulder. “Anywhere in particular?”

 

“You’re new, right?” Ash asked, hooking her thumbs on the edge of her overalls. She was wearing a crop top underneath them, and Lynn could see some of her midriff peeking out. It was a cute outfit. 

 

Lynn was very gay. She nodded. “Yeah, I came here from Oregon.”

 

“Sweet, I can introduce you to In-N-Out,” Ash said, breaking out into a grin. She reached out and took Lynn’s hand in hers, and pulled her towards the front of the school. “You’re not a vegetarian or anything, are you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Great! You’re gonna love it!”

 


End file.
